El Dia de los Muertos

Adela and her sister bought a local business formerly called the Animal House Café from David and Jenny. David wanted to pursue his art full-time and Jenny planned to manage him. They sold the place and the menu to Adela.

Adela and her sister are from Mexico. They’re lawful permanent residents, and Adela was able to get a small business loan to help with the café, which is now called Adela’s Westside Café. Her husband works in construction, and jobs are few right now, so she’s a little worried. She gets up at 4:30 in the morning to start the baking and open the shop two hours later.

About a month ago we were talking, and she began to reminisce about El Dia de los Muertos in the town where she grew up. It wasn’t a big town. Her aunt, who had married and moved away, would come to visit, and Adela’s aunt and mother would cook a special meal, a feast. I’m guessing it was a lot of the favorite foods of relatives who had passed on. At some point during the day, the town priest would lead people to the local cemetery and they could clean and decorate the graves—all the graves, Adela said, not just family ones. The priest would lead everyone in a prayer. Like Memorial Day was meant to be, here, only for real.

El Dia de los Muertos isn’t just jaunty skeleton figures dancing, playing musical instruments and driving tiny model cars. It isn’t about dressing up and getting candy. It is about celebrating connections, heritage. Clearly, Adela misses it.

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